Three Isn't Just A Number
by Mae Ari
Summary: Harry knew that tonight was the night he would be murdered or become a murderer. But with Ron and Hermione by his side, will they all make it back together? Trio friendship fic. Edited version of 'Standing Together as Three'.


Three Isn't Just A Number

**Edited A/N: **I edited this bugger until I finally made it make sense. This is the MUCH clearer and edited version of 'Standing Together as Three'. I thank everyone that's reviewed it because quite frankly, I wanted to throw it away but I think everyone deserves this explanation. I hope you don't mind because it did not really change anything. I'm sorry to those who had suffered confusion over this because of my lack of ability to explain things properly in short fics.

Three figures were standing in front of a house torn and shattered from many years of mistreatment and solitude. One was clutching their left arm gingerly, another wiping the blood from their cheek, and the last gazing at the door. They could hear the sounds of sparks and screams in the smoking field behind them.

"Harry, are you okay?" asked Hermione quietly. She had blood smeared all over the side of her face and her hands but she didn't care. She was trembling from head to toe.

"I need to go in," muttered Harry. He was grasping his wand so tightly that he was sure it would snap. His heart pounded in his chest. He wished his wand hand wasn't trembling so badly.

"We're right behind you," said Ron. His left arm appeared to be jutting at an odd angle from the elbow. Ron's face was white as a sheet and had an unhealthy green tinge. For a moment, he looked exactly like he had at the Shrieking Shack, where he had broken his leg. He seemed to be breathing in shallow breaths, and Harry could not bear to listen to it.

"No, you're not," said Harry fiercely.

"What?"

Both Hermione and Ron looked at him in disbelief.

"You're not going there alone, mate-"

"- We're going through this together -"

"- Don't be thick, you'll get killed -"

"- Harry, please - "

"No," said Harry firmly. "I'm going alone." He raised his wand as if to do something to physically stop them but Ron had already caught on.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

Hermione caught Harry's wand and held it away from Harry. Her eyes were bright and glistening. It was a wonder she did not break down from there. Harry felt a twinge of guilt but he knew what he had to do.

"Give me my wand," said Harry in an oddly calm voice.

"No," breathed Hermione. She was still shaking. "No, I won't give you it unless you promise us that we're going with you for this."

"Give me my wand," Harry repeated, his hand sticking out in front of Hermione.

"Harry, if we don't go, you could be killed," said Ron. His eyes shone determination apprehension could not fill. "And- and neither of us want that..."

"Please understand Harry," begged Hermione, her voice shaking badly. A tear fell down her check. "You would do the same for us - "

"I'm the one that's supposed to be killed," said Harry flatly. "Either me or Voldemort snuffs it. You could be killed in the process.

"But you can go on without me! Live! No more evil Dark Lords to ruin your lives." He knew he should not have said this - it only made him sound bitter and sarcastic.

"NO!" yelled Ron, surprising both Harry and Hermione. He grabbed Harry's right arm with his good hand. "Don't you get it? We're not doing this to make you miserable! We're doing this for the sake of everyone, including all of us."

Hermione grabbed Harry's left arm and said, "He's right... Harry, we love you. Please let us do this together."

Harry stood there, stunned by his two best friends. Never did he imagine he would have such friends, like now, standing there by his side, and ready to fight with Harry... here. They were suicidal, walking into this - this death trap. But as Hermione and Ron gazed at him, he knew. He felt himself breathing heavily as he stared back at them in the eye.

"All - all right," said Harry, trying to will away the lump in his throat.

They walked up to the Riddle mansion and looked at each other.

"Ready?" Harry asked nervously.

Ron closed his eyes and opened them again, nodding. Hermione took a deep breath and nodded too. Both of them released their hands from Harry's arms and held their wands high.

* * *

That night three died. A memorial for two, a victory from one.

Many faces gazed at the caskets. The Ministry held this memorial, and many, most uninvited, had arrived. They gossiped and whispered in torturing voices.

"Those two - "

"Can you really believe it?"

"The War's over. You-Know-Who's dead!"

"For Merlin's sake, you can say his name now."

"Vo-vo- I can't say it!"

"Oh, that poor family. It was a Muggle-born girl that died. Her family are in shock with grief."

"Other was a pureblood, right?"

"Not right, not right at all..."

"What do you think Potter will do?"

Harry Potter turned from the caskets in the grey weather and met two pairs of eyes.

"They killed a first year," whispered Hermione in a shaky voice. "How - how _could_ they?"

"Ernie Macmillan's refused to come to the memorial," said Ron in a strangely dull tone. Ron was staring at the casket."He reckons his father would have wanted to be put by his granddad but the Ministry wouldn't budge with this damn memorial."

"At least - at least he's gone," said Hermione. She and Ron glanced swiftly at Harry, as though waiting for a reaction. He did not say anything for a moment.

"Let's go," he said simply. They walked away and Hermione managed to chain them altogether with her arms. Harry felt grateful to be leaving with his best friends, despite these deaths. As the wind billowed their cloaks, they passed a tiny grave, unmarked, indifferent to the world.

**A/N: **Did you really consider it Ron and Hermione who died until the end? Let me know. I would also like constructive criticism if you find any. Please review, for I really want your opinion on this. I know it's pretty short but I intended it to be.


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